October's End
by Irene Garza
Summary: ONESHOT :: I know you'll be on time for our annual appointment; unstoppable, unattainable and perpetual. As permanent as the feeling of agony that gnaw me the remaining 364 days and 23 hours for your next visit. :: HAPPY HALLOWEEN


**DISCLAIMER: THE CHARACTERS AND THE UNIVERSE IN WHICH THEY ARE DEVELOPING BELONG TO J. .**

_N/A: Hello everybody, I hope you enjoy this little One Shot, is just a little nocturne divagation with great influences on Edgar Allan Poe's literature._

_Happy Halloween!_

_Irene_

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**October's End**

... **O ... o ... O ... o ... O ... o ... O ...**

**.**

The ephemeral whisper of the night wind, which sneaks through the windows that remain closed, is my only company. No, it is not; the rhythmic accompaniment of the clock embedded in the wall, matched by the beating of my heart, also gives me its tortuous closeness.

I'm still waiting for you, counting the unattainable seconds that seem eternal, but I'm in no hurry, no... I know you'll be on time for our annual appointment; unstoppable, unattainable and perpetual. As permanent as the feeling of agony that gnaw me the remaining 364 days and 23 hours for your next visit.

I look towards the window waiting for your arrival. The night is peaceful and serene, filled with the silver light of a full moon that caresses the velvet of darkness until it becomes pearly.

I hear a scratch on the window that bristles my skin. Will it be you? Will you have arrived?

No...

Feelings as contradictory as relief and disappointment crowd in my chest, fighting for power and dominance. You have not arrived yet; I would know, I wouldn't need to even ask. Your arrival is unmistakable.

The screeching continues disturbing me, so I get up and direct my steps to the huge window that covers the west wall of the studio from floor to ceiling. There's wind outside, an imperious wind that shakes the empty branches of the trees with brutality. Its branches, like keen nails, crash against the glass and tear the silence with sharp and piercing wails.

And I'm still waiting for you...

I return to the comfort of my armchair in front of the fireplace, this place exclusively designated to honor your memory. Because accompanied by the crackling of the fire is how I feel closer to you, my woman... Because even after such a long time you are still the fire that consumes me until I become disarmed. Fire and martyrdom that is a balm for a cracked heart of ice.

I can stare at the sublime flames tirelessly dancing and remember your strength and stubbornness ... My wild lioness, you were never mine, but I always belonged to you. We were like opposite poles, destined to hate each other, and we were too cowardly to overcome those bindings.

My eyes of ice are lost in the sleeping misty memories that lodge in my heart, and time seems to stop while I contemplate you in my memories.

An air blizzard resonates on the outside and wide opens the window, dragging along a rusty ironwork lament. The gauze curtains dance to the rhythm of the wind, creating voluptuous and changing shapes that invariably remind me of your hair waving on the wind...

The firmament is discovered before me, full of shining stars that are occasionally obscured by some diffused lost cloud that travels without any destiny or direction.

You are almost here.

My courage weaken every second and I travel back to those distant and lost times when I was just a boy and I could still see you all the time. I would never admit it out loud but I'm afraid... I feel it run through my system like electricity, making adrenaline flow through my veins and reflecting in my trembling hands trying to grab an empty glass.

I will toast for you and your homecoming. Either way, I need strength to see you once again.

The cognac slides down my burning throat, leaving a warm and comfortable aftertaste in its wake. It's like silk, like one of your soft caresses, like your touch on my cold skin. How I miss that forbidden contact...

_-Dong-_

The time has come. I put the glass on the table and take a deep breath.

_-Dong-_

The wind whispers loudly and reaches me to calm the anxiety that runs through me.

_-Dong-_

The fire in the fireplace increases its intensity, filling the void in the room with orange light that emphasizes the gliding shadows like ghosts.

_-Dong-_

I twirl on my position and look straight at your portrait, which I stoically keep on the main wall of this room, dedicated to your memory and my stupid weakness.

_-Dong-_

The moon is eclipsed with a cloud that cuts all the external lighting in its path, plunging the garden into impenetrable darkness.

_-Dong-_

My heart speeds up in anticipation of your return. Just a few seconds and I will see you again in front of me... just once again so I can continue living.

_-Dong-_

The books stacked on the countertop begin to open prey to the wind that continues to flood the studio, invading the place with its characteristic sound. Even the books, your eternal companions, receive you.

_-Dong-_

I perceive a distant howl. A wolf crying to the moon... You are very close, I can almost feel you.

_-Dong-_

A smell of petrichor with a soft jasmine accent invades my nose. It is your smell... your essence. The one I remember every night before bed. Now I can be sure of your proximity.

_-Dong-_

The room begins to sink into darkness despite the burning fireplace. You have arrived...

_-Dong-_

The walls begin to shed blood, slowly descending from the ceiling to cover its entire length. The last hint of your arrival, marking my battered conscience with the memory of your blood spilled by my hand. My purgatory on earth, my condemnation of hell... The hell of not having you with me being what I miss the most in my life.

_-Dong-_

The echo of the last twang diffuses and lost, reverberating in my chest and announcing the midnight.

Then it happens.

The sky clears again, bringing with it the silver light of the moon that goes through the window until it is projected on the wooden floor.

The light begins to deform and materialize, collapsing its brightness at a point that grows larger and more tangible.

You have arrived, my beloved; promptly to our appointment, like every first minute of October 31, to give me an hour from your company.

I see you as beautiful as the first moment, covered by the light that radiates through your pale and translucent skin. Your brown hair falling down your back like an indomitable waterfall, your lovely figure wrapped in an ethereal and sublime fabric that accentuates each of its curves, stealing my breath away. And your twinkling hazel eyes looking at me, showing everything that your imperturbable face refuses to reflect.

You slide into my position as if pushed by the wind, so subtle, so ephemeral ... How I wish I could touch you even if it were just a second.

"Draco" you whisper my name like a caress surrounding me. How I missed your voice, its memory does not do justice to its melodic beauty.

"Hermione..."

We don't need more words, only your name and mine molten forever in the memory of the wind, proclaiming to the distance and time that they belonged together, just a second and then they lost forever.

We only have one hour to be together; to merge into a disembodied embrace that is impossible to conceive.

A ghost and her murderer melting into a hug of pain, love, and death. Because despite not being able to touch you I can feel you, inside me, outside of me, in my body, in my soul, in my memory and the eternity.

Surrounding me.

Kissing me.

Caressing me.

Loving me...

I surrender to your incorporeal presence that completely fills me. I can feel you in every pore of my skin twitched by the cold of your presence. And I would like to keep forever the sensation of your ethereal touch on me... But time is my worst enemy and soon, too soon, I will lose you once again.

And like each one of our appointments, I look into your eyes again and beg for your forgiveness... and I swear to you that neither time nor distance will stand between us. And here I will wait for you, like every October's end, to fill me with your presence so I can stand the burden of guilt and pain for losing you that I will drag forever.

_-Dong-_

You smile for me and start to fade away. And I feel empty again.

I whisper to you in despair "I love you" and in return, I receive your dying voice

"I love you too"

The ephemeral whisper of the night wind, which sneaks through the windows that remain closed, is my only company. No, it is not; the rhythmic accompaniment of the clock embedded in the wall, matched by the beating of my heart, also gives me its tortuous closeness.

And now that you're gone, I will wait for you again, counting the unattainable seconds that seem eternal, but I'm in no hurry, no... I know you'll be on time for our annual appointment; unstoppable, unattainable and perpetual. As permanent as the feeling of agony that gnaw me the remaining 364 days and 23 hours for your next visit.

.

... **O ... o ... O ... THE END ... O ... o ... O ...**


End file.
